Orderly Chaos
by She Who Shines
Summary: What happens when a group of misfits meet and journey together? They attract other misfits like mad! In this wild ride of canon and OCs the discworld must be saved from the Vampires Bite Back cult by some of the craziest of its inhabitants. An edited RPG
1. A Very Crowded Deserted Alley

**Author's Notes: I wish I could claim to have written this brilliance, but I fear only Susan's dialog, Lord Drakhen, Phoenix, and her family belong to me. This is a Roleplaying Game started by Fanless and taken part in by many others that I briefly edited because, quite simply, I think it's wonderful. It is a combined effort - a grand one. Now enter our crazy wildness and ENJOY. Review, because I am sure you will please us all if you do. Here is a link to the original forum, with profiles of our characters as well as our random (often humorous) chatter if you wish to visit it (remove the parenthesis): _(_http:_)_(fan)(fiction).net/forum/Discworld_RP_The_MadeUp_Characters_Edition/71228/**

CHAPTER ONE

_A Very Crowded Deserted Alley_

Phoenix glared at her forefinger and thumb. She snapped. Fire spurted upwards from between them – red, hot, and dancing. She glared some more.

It was cold, she was leaning up against the Thieves' Guild in the middle of Ankh Morpork after midnight, and chocolate chips, flour, and other various cooking implements were nowhere nearby. Not to mention that she was probably a perfect target for whatever crooks would be wandering around. She stood out like a sore thumb with her thick fiery red hair – almost to her waist. Not to mention how young and vulnerable she looked.

"I should have stayed in Lancre," she grumbled.

The fire was bright between her fingers, but she was used to the light. She was not everyone.

"Do you mind?" pleaded a hoarse voice. A shadow near the corner of the Guild building stepped forward and became an unhealthily pale young man in Assassin's black. "I have this thing about fire..."

Phoenix glanced up in surprise. She had been certain that she was alone.

"I have this thing about cold," she replied sharply, but dowsed the flame. She waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. "Who are you, anyway?" her voice was softer, much less malice. It didn't shake, but that's how she sounded when she was afraid. "Are you a thief?"

But if the worst came to worst, the man before her could always fall victim to 'spontaneous combustion'.

"A thief? No!" Although his face was partly shadowed and therefore hard to read, the boy sounded affronted. "I'm plenty of things, miss, but I'm no thief. You ought to know better than that. What do I look like?" He gestured at his uniform with his right hand—the one holding a small crossbow.

Phoenix squinted, trying to get a good look at him in the dim moonlight.

"Sorry," she replied with a shrug. "I can't see very well without fire." She tilted her head, "Hmm. You look very stylish. And I suppose you must be wearing black. I think I've heard of that combination before somewhere, but I'm new to Ankh-Morpork."

Phoenix gave the most dazzling, 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile she could possibly muster, stood from the wall and extended a hand.

"I'm Phoenix, and it's a pleasure to meet you this dark, not-quite-stormy night."

She had kept her eyes trained on the crossbow as much as his face, so didn't notice the other figure in the shadows. Mysterious had been watching for a bit and was trying not to say anything, but the girl had hit one of her pet peeves. Finally, she could bear it no longer and tapped on her shoulder.

"Ahem." She tried again, "_Ahem,_ I believe you have taken my spot."

Phoenix was caught off guard and took a large step back so she could watch both the strange cloaked figure and the man-dressed-in-stylish black. That pressed her up against the wall of the Thieves' Guild once more (a dangerous thing), but at least she could keep an eye on that suspiciously deadly looking crossbow as well as the newcomer. Cloaked Figures weren't supposed to be friendly.

She glanced back and forth between them for half a second, before skewing up her face and calling -

"_What?_"

"Thank you," Mysterious said as she took her spot - now empty. "I've searched throughout this alley, and this spot is the most mysterious. No other spot comes to compare."

Miss Figure then noticed that the redhead was looking at the man's crossbow like he was going to shoot her with it. Then she noticed his Assassins' attire and decided she should figure out what's going on.

"Who are you two anyway?" hm, that didn't sound very mysterious. Oh well, at least her new stilts made her look tall and imposing.

"I," said Julian, drawing himself up proudly and speaking in a much more formal tone, "am an Assassin, madam. I am busy training." The effect of grand demeanor was spoiled somewhat by the hand holding the crossbow, which fell off. "Bugger!" he muttered, and fell to looking for it. "Why does this always happen? I should have joined the Fools' Guild instead."

Phoenix blinked before turning to Mysterious.

"Phoenix Shifter, at your service," she said with a quick smile before blowing at the flames now dancing on her palm (which immediately flared a bit brighter) and kneeling down beside the Assassin, simultaneously glancing around for his hand. "Alright, three questions: One, what is an apprentice Assassin doing by the Thieves' Guild, B, I don't think I caught your name, and Thirdly, what exactly are you?" She glanced back at the cloaked figure, "Do you think you could give us a hand looking for his... er... hand?"

Instinctively Julian flinched away from the flame. "You must be new here," he muttered. " 'What are you'. Huh. Well... One: I'm staking out that carriage across the street." He pointed with his remaining hand. "B: It's Julian Halfway. No Hon.'s, no 'the Third', no 'Esq.', just Julian Halfway. And thirdly—Aha!" He snatched up the missing hand. "I am, _exactly,_ a zombie." He wagged it at her sternly. "Haven't you ever seen one before, Miss Shifter?"

"No, Julian Halfway. Vampires I've dealt with but you're my first zombie." Phoenix cocked her head. "You don't look too grotesque for someone whose flesh is rotting. I guess that threw me off."

"_Charming,_" Mysterious said, still gaping at the detached hand. "So you're a zombie and you're some kind of fire demon I take it?" - she didn't wait for an answer - "Well, it's not every day you see two people like that in a dark creepy alley."

Of course, it's not every day you _go_ into a dark creepy alley.

"It's not every day I run into a mysterious hooded figure lurking about in the shadows," Julian grunted, tucking his severed hand under his chin to rummage in his pocket. "Or should that be 'larking'? You're not a Thief, are you?"

"I am _not_ a fire demon!" Phoenix called angrily, finally getting over the shock as her hair burst with flames as she stood to her feet. She _looked_ like a fire demon. "And for your information I wouldn't _be_ in a dark creepy alley if I knew where an inn was!" The fire went out and she glanced down sheepishly. "Um, sorry... I get that a lot. It's kind of frustrating."

_Not a fire demon eh?_ Mysterious thought, shaking her head.

"The only thing I steal is interestingness," she explained. "I do not come from the thieves guild," - she had tried that once, but she didn't think that was a good thing to say with an assassin around - "No, I come from the Guild of Mysterious Cloaked Ones."

Mysterious twisted her arm majestically, but it came more out like a ruffle and a small bulge under the enormous cloak.

"Well, this is amusing," Phoenix observed. "We've got a human who can't figure out why she spouts fire, a zombie assassin who can't keep his hand attached, and a mysterious cloaked figure who - no offense - has a sweet voice, all bumping into one another in some dark alley for their own, unknown reasons." She laughed dryly. "Do any of know of an inn anywhere near here? As good as alleys are for Mysterious Cloaked Figures, I doubt that they're very comfortable to sleep in. Oh, and that stage coach you're staking out," Phoenix added, "with all the fire going on here, it's probably seen us by now." She smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't quite thinking."

_At least,_ she thought, _if he was trailing it to 'inhume' someone, whoever he was going to 'inhume' has a sporting chance, now._ She hoped the thought didn't show in her expression, which was genuinely apologetic.

"Well, I know plenty of inns," Mysterious replied - what good Mysterious Cloaked Figure doesn't? "Around here..." she began muttering to herself trying to remember which one was best, but to the onlooker, it just looked like she was standing still as a statue.

"So do I," a new voice called.

Cassandra had been watching the three of them. She could do with a few friends after that incident in the Alchemist's Guild. Now she strolled out of the shadows and up to the small group. After all everyone was used to vampires around the place now, even the girl with the Lancre accent and the affinity for flames. Cassandra liked flames.

"How about Don'tgonearthe Inn on Short Street?"

"I see no problem with that," Mysterious smiled - but nobody could tell. The Cloaked Figure walked up to the vampire to get a closer look.

"WHO ARE YOU?" she asked, somehow managing to keep some power in her voice.

_Good,_ she thought, _Very Mysterious._

"I am Cassandra Larimar," Cassandra said it in an imperial tone more suited to statements such as 'I'm the king of Lancre'. She continued in a slightly more relaxed tone, "vampire, former alchemist and all-round chemical lover. Ex-guild member, as of this afternoon. Before you ask, I'm not from Uberwald, so don't expect a cape or a stupid accent. And you are?"

Her eyes were drawn to the girl with the red hair. However the cloaked figure was more mysterious.

Julian looked up from his task: fairly unsuccessfully attempting to stitch his hand back on. " 'lo," he mumbled, mouth full of thread.

A pale hand landed on Julian's shoulder. It belonged to a similarly pale young man about Phoenix's age, who couldn't have been more than nineteen. He too wore black and blended in with the shadows so that his white-haired head and hands seemed to float.

"Nice stealth, Halfway," he said dryly. The door of the coach was open and it was empty inside, showing clearly that this man had been the occupant. "Practicing on your competition?"

Phoenix nearly jumped. She laughed instead, but it came out sounding nervous and halfhearted. She wriggled the fingers of her right hand by her side idly, letting ghosts of flame - hardly noticeable - flick between them in hopes of comforting herself.

"Well, we've got ourselves quite a little soiree going on. I never knew deserted alleys could get so crowded. For all you new folks, though I'm assuming you've already heard, I'm Phoenix Shifter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cassandra Larimar, and you as well..." she trailed off, realizing she didn't know who the newcomer was (beyond the fact that his posture and appearance screamed 'VAMPIRE!', and by the way he talked to Julian she assumed he was an Assassin, too) and 'whoever you are' just didn't sound polite.

Phoenix glanced at the sewing job the zombie was attempting apprehensively, and wondered why it bothered her so much. Bloodsucking vampires she could have tea with, but a detachable wrist left her more than a little unnerved. It didn't quite make sense, so she shrugged it off.

"Thanks for the suggestion on the inn. How far off is it? Which way?" Phoenix asked, hoping to distract herself.

Mysterious had been to probably every inn in Ankh Morpork, so she knew the direction as well as Cassandra did (at least, if she wasn't getting it confused with any of the other inns...so many of them). She decided to test her slipping skills, and slipped out of the alley. Not sure whether or not she was seen, she popped her head back in.

"You coming?" she asked, "I do really think we should move, this place is getting crowded. If we stay here too long, we might pick up a rhinoceros and a serial killer."

They might even fit in, too.

"The serial killer might be showing up sooner than you think," Julian remarked, giving his hand a shake to test the stitching. "I hear Jonathan Teatime's back in town. Remember him, Allie? That weirdo who went missing a while ago? He gave Assassins a bad name, he did."

"Yes, Teatime." Allie looked thoughtful. "Interesting fellow. Not the sort you'd want to meet in a dark alley, of course. And returning to the subject, ladies, allow us to accompany you. I'd hate to see such an interesting group of lovelies come to harm." He nodded to Cassandra, recognizing her vampire blood.

"Since apparently he's too high and mighty to introduce himself, this is a classmate of mine." Julian stood up, satisfied with his stitching. "He goes by Albus Weiss. You don't want to hear his full name, believe me."

Mysterious made an irritated face (which, of course, like any other of her expressions remained unseen - which made her wonder if she liked the cloak so much). _Lovely._ She'd much rather be called Mysterious other than lovely. How would he know she was lovely anyway? She was completely covered in her cloak, after all.

"Alright, if there is a serial killer coming," Mysterious began, trying not to sound too irritated, "Let's get going."

The Cloaked Figure left, without waiting for anyone to follow her.

_Lovely._

Phoenix raised her eyebrows. Life in Ankh Morpork seemed to be quite interesting - so far at least.

"Teatime..." she mumbled thoughtfully, "odd name. I thought Assassins were supposed to kill, though. What do you mean by a 'bad name'?" Phoenix asked curiously as she bent down and picked up her satchel, throwing the hoop over her shoulders before she followed the others. "Excuse me," Phoenix corrected herself. She'd already stupidly asked if Julian was a thief. She really had to be more careful what she said, or these 'lovelies' might start to seem like more trouble than they were worth. At least the one with red hair, anyway. "- I mean '_inhume_'."

"Oh, you must know about him. The undead were scared that he might end up a zombie." Cassandra glanced at Julian. "If anyone had the strength of will Teatime did. Attempted to inhume the Hogfather. And Death."

Cassandra looked around. "We seem to have lost our mysterious cloaked figure. Perhaps we should leave this alley. It's not very classy. People might start to talk."

She switched her attention to the flames dancing on Phoenix's fingers, who (Phoenix, not the fingers) started after Mysterious, wrinkling her nose as she glanced back at everyone else.

"Did you say he tried to kill Death? Is he crazy or something?"

"Yes, I said Death. I didn't say he was sane."

Cassandra wondered vaguely if Albus was b-total. It was quite hard to tell. All she knew was that it was cruel that one addiction had to replace another.

_Whoever's heard of a vampire alchemist,_ she thought bitterly.

Standing in the middle of an alley, at night, in Ankh-Morpork was, by common knowledge, suicide. Especially in areas like these, really, but that didn't seem to have stopped the small congregation ahead of her. Or, technically, if you went by the dress sense, _him_. Maladict hadn't tried to get back into wearing women's clothes again. Especially not women vampires' clothes. She hadn't even bothered with the uniform. Tried kicking someone in the nuts while wearing a skirt? Na, it was much easier to just look like a man.

So he (not she) walked closer, pleased to see that the vampire ability to 'I don't want to be seen' was still working, before leaning against the wall with his arms folded as he caught the name 'Teatime'. And grinned. Even he'd heard of the assassin, and he'd spent ages fighting in Boregrovia.

"Sane isn't the same as mad though. Teatime's mind is actually a wonderful thing."

"Oh, sure," Julian grumbled, thinking it was Allie who had spoken. He was still somewhat preoccupied with his own decay. "If you think Morbius strips(1) are wonderful. Yeah, all right, he had vision, he was terrifically original, but he never knew when to stop. And look where it got him. What good is being some kind of genius if you're not alive—or undead—to enjoy it? Oh..." he added as he finally caught sight of the newcomer.

Maladict considers the words, watching with interest as the zombie stitched his hand. So obviously a zombie. You didn't grow up in a vampire castle, then join the sodding army without being able to tell species apart. Usually it was the smell(2).

"Guess you could say that. Or, some say Teatime's far too alive, which is why he went after death," he says silkily, silently remarking how much like an Igor the zombie looked. Then he smiles, showing the tips of his pointed teeth. "Who are you all then?"

oOo

(1)Invented by the famous vampire mathematician, Morbius.

(2)A sort of rotten cabbage smell, when it came to zombies – but not exactly unpleasant. In fact, compared to other species, it was almost nice.

oOo

Phoenix was getting a little tired of introducing herself. She felt if she had to do it one more time she would explode – not burst into flames, full out _explode_. She quickly considered saying she was Arabella Aramana Cassandrana Edwardina Katerina Adtroi, Goddess of the Swamps, and that she liked to eat frogs' legs, but thought better of it.

"I'm Phoenix Shifter. I'm not a fire demon. It's a pleasure to meet you," she managed, playing with fire on the tips of her fingers. "Really, we should be heading out, shouldn't we? The little I know about Ankh Morpork says that deserted alleys are dangerous. As earlier I was quite lost I didn't have much of a choice, but if we're going to go to Don'tgonearthe Inn, we should probably _go._ Besides, it looks like we've lost Mysterious."

Mysterious was, actually, just turning on Short Street and coming up to Don'tgonearthe Inn.

"Slow pokes," she mumbled, "And I'm the one with the stilts."

She popped through the door and went to find herself a Mysterious seat. It wasn't long before the others caught up, as Don'tgonearthe Inn was none too far from the alley and they all were slightly doubtful when it came to the safety of their previous position.

_Who is that?_ she wondered, looking at the newcomer. But she wanted to wait until they found her to give introductions. Instead, she quietly sat and spied on them Mysteriously.

"Sorry for not introducing earlier," Julian said to Maladict once they were all seated. "I'm Julian Halfway. That there is Allie, and she's Cassandra. You?" with an offer of his hand. "Oh, hallo," Julian said, noticing Mysterious. "Want to come join us?"

"No thank you," Mysterious replied, "This chair is very tall and I prefer the view. Besides, it's much more imposing."

"You can call me Maladict," Maladict says smoothly, crossing his legs and attempting to look totally relaxed. He doubted that worked though. A vampire in military clothing with a shocking great sword can't really do that. No matter how scruffy they wear them. "I'm a gender confused vampire," he says to the not a fire demon woman, smirking slightly.

Cassandra wondered whether they were going to carry on collecting people now they had left the alley before she realized that she had to interrupt.

"Try being a vampire that blows herself up every other day. And who just got thrown out of the Alchemists Guild. All because that idiot Silverfish cut himself."

Cassandra realized that she was acting like an embittered obsessive. Then she realized that she was one.

_I mean who cuts themselves on a broken crucible anyway? Someone who does that doesn't deserve to be Head Alchemist, _she thought.

"Well, why would a vampire become an alchemist?" Maladict drawls, turning his head slowly to look at Cassandra. After all, blowing up was never a pleasant experience. And part of the job description of being an alchemist was to be blown up. How else could they get through so many members?

"'Gender confused'?" Phoenix asked, her voice somewhere between curious and confused now that she had finally found it. She'd never heard of such a thing before and it had taken her off guard.

Funnily enough, the '_vampire_' part didn't shock her in the slightest. Phoenix noted that and began to wonder if maybe she should shuffle through her priorities. Once again, she used her trademark 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile. "It's nice to meet you, Maladict. What brings you to Ankh Morpork – or do you live here?"

Maladict looks back at the Not-A-Fire-Demon girl, one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in his pale face. He looks as cool as only a vampire could. Part of the inheritance, he had gathered.

"Yes..." Although, he didn't want to think about the being a 'gender confused' vampire. The vampire bit was ok. It kept him alive quite often, when fighting. That and coffee. He...or she...no, here, as he had already decided, here he was a he. Not a she. Thinking about it gave him a headache. So he didn't bother explain it to her.

"I'm on leave, and fancied checking out the sights." Again, sort of true. He had always wanted to see what was so scary about the Shades. "And I've never been here before." Generally, the army didn't come to Ankh-Morpork. Especially seeing as it was often considered to be 'the enemy'.

"I'm new here as well," Phoenix replied, smiling charmingly. "I came hoping someone could tell me why I can spout fire at will." She glanced at the alchemist. "Would you have any idea?" She sniffed; "And is that... coffee I smell?"

Maladict shrugs, "You can spout fire because Fire will let you? I would mention some gods, but we generally don't hassle one another much." After all, the only prayer he had ever said was _Dear gods, let me kill this bastard before he kills me._ That wasn't much of a religion. "And yes. Most likely. I like coffee. League of Temperance."

"Ah, I see. Instead of blood," Phoenix deduced. "My Aunt likes coffee. But she's not a vampire. My Grandfather is. Sorry. I'm babbling."

"Coffee most likely wasn't the best choice," Maladict concedes, not seeming to notice her burbling. It was the closest the vampire ever got to admitting he was wrong. Distinctly, someone in the bar yelled:

"Hey! That's that god-forsaken journalist!"

"Oh, bollucks..." she cursed, slamming her head into her hands.

At the cry, Maladict looks around the bar, looking slightly interested. "Journalist?"

Phoenix thought he was asking if she was one, but didn't have a chance to comment before Albus did.

"Perhaps you're under a curse," suggested Allie casually to Phoenix. He had been sitting between Julian and Maladict with a book in his hand, listening but saying nothing.

"I don't see why anyone would really want curse me." Phoenix paused thoughtfully, "Unless they thought I was my aunt. Then there's a good chance of that. But really, I'm not complaining. I don't want it to go away; it's very useful, in fact. I'm just terribly curious. If it is a curse, it's a pretty darn good one, all things considered. And no, I'm not a journalist. I just look like my aunt with longer hair. And _she,_ unfortunately, _is _one_._"

Phoenix glanced apprehensively at the man who had yelled and was now glaring at her, then looked back at the three vampires, zombie, and cloaked figure watching her and sighed in relief. Someone would have to be a real idiot to come after her now.

"Oh, right. I thought you meant there was an actual journalist here. Like de Worde. Now that was fun." Maladict cracks a smile at the memory of the lies they had fed the writer. The_ hazy_ memories, seeing as he had been lacking coffee at that time, but yeah. He didn't bother commenting on the rest of her words. It was none of his business.

"As far as I know, thank goodness, there isn't. Though it might be fun to make up a whole bunch of things, wouldn't it? Like maybe that that Teatime/Teh-ah-tim-eh you guys were talking about was up and running," she chuckled.

"If by 'up and running' you mean alive, well yeah. He is." Maladict says absently, looking around with an unconcerned expression.

"'Alive'? Not even undead? _Alive?_" Phoenix sounded confused.

Abruptly Allie put down his book. "_What?_"

Mysterious started laughing, which was a little uncalled for, but then again, different people have different reactions. As for the not-a-fire-demon, it was all sinking in and she felt she should share her enlightenment with the worried-sounding vampire.

"It's not really _that_ odd, all things considered I suppose. I mean, weird things happen on the disc all the time," Phoenix pointed out, gesturing around the table. "Even here things aren't exactly 'normal'. It shouldn't be trouble for us if some crazed Assassin came back to life… unless I'm missing something. He's no reason to be irked at you all, right?" she added nervously.

"Where did you hear this?" Allie demanded of Maladict, ignoring Phoenix. This slightly irked her, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. "Have you seen him?"

Cassandra finally managed to stop thinking about magnesium.

"If Teatime's back in Ankh-Morpork maybe we should head to Genua," she suggested.

Maladict sighs, glancing around him. He rather fancied a coffee now. Was doubting whether this was the right place to even ask for one, but it didn't matter. He could last a bit longer at least. He blinks, before looking back at the others, momentarily losing track of the conversation and all the cool atmosphere he'd built up. "Huh?"

Then he realizes, and then he feels like hitting himself. So much for being mysterious. Although, he gathered that was Mysterious' job. Not his.

"Oh, yeah...One of my...friends, was talking about him. I haven't seen him, but others have. And I don't think he's undead. In all honestly, I think the gods just got fed up with having him around, so they sent him back to us."

He shrugs, considering the assassin. He doubted he could do anything like Te-ah-tim-eh did. Soldiers and assassins were completely different. After all, assassins were paid to kill. Soldiers were paid to stay alive.

"What else did your friend say?" demanded Allie intensely. His usual cool-as-a-cucumber demeanor had vanished.

"That he couldn't find his eye." Maladict says, stretching a hand out in front of him. Perhaps he should paint his nails again. Oh, no, wait, that had been when he was a she. Still...they had looked good. "He kept stealing marbles off one of the stalls. Well, not stealing really. Seeing as the stall holders vanished before he took them. Apparently it was rather interesting to watch. Shame I was fighting then, really."

Phoenix coughed.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say something about missing an _eye?_" she blinked, and then it dawned on her. "Oh, wait, he has a glass one, then?"

"_Had_ a glass eye," Maladict corrects the Not-A-Fire-Demon girl, holding up one finger, "That's the one he's lost. Death said it was a family affair, or something." He was more likely going to go for the 'or something' part of that.

The Assassin trainee looked rather nervous. Or rather, as nervous as a vampire _could_. Nervousness was a hard thing for a vampire to pull off. Phoenix pursed her lips, examining Allie speculatively.

"Albus, you look rather... shaken. Do you have some personal experience with this particular Assassin?"

She always did have a curiosity to rival that of Jonathan Teatime himself. Maladict glances sideways at Albus, wondering as well whether there was anything between him and Teatime. There could be. He didn't know.

Julian scowled. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time. Allie wasn't particularly nice to him—he wasn't particularly nice to anyone—but Julian considered him a friend, since he didn't actively disapprove of his zombiehood. He wanted to change the subject, for his friend's sake.

"I'm sure it's just rumors. Or the wizards mucking about. Does anyone want something? I'll treat."

Maladict looks up at Julian, watching him quietly for a moment, before deciding to agree with him. For sake of nothing better to do. "Yes. Rumours. That must be it," he drawls, once more in an expressionless tone.

Phoenix raised brow.

"Well, I'll be keeping my eyes open. As for food, I'm not used to ordering at inns, but I'll take the sweetest drink that doesn't have alcohol. And maybe some soup." She flashed a charming smile; "Thanks."

"I'll have a coffee," Maladict adds after Phoenix speaks, only seeming to register the offer then. He would act as if he cared about it as he was looking forward to a coffee, but breaking into the necklace of coffee beans wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to be caught short. Again.

"Alright. Waiter? Excuse me? Waiter?" Julian waved gingerly. A youngish, gingerish man who looked rather like an anorexic hamster hurried over, seeing the Assassin's black. When he got close enough to notice the stitches, grayish skin and clouded eyes he did a magnificent job of recovering his here-to-serve smile. After a moment.

"A coffee for the gentleman here," said Julian, obviously ill at ease with ordering, "and... uh, let's see... a Saccharine Mary for the red-headed lady. Anyone want anything else?"

"A gin and tonic." Cassandra didn't usually drink but after spending the night in such odd company she felt the need for alcohol. At least she wasn't drinking blood, although the waiter wouldn't have even been a snack.

Maladict turns his head slowly to look at the waiter, watching him with the smile only a vampire can do. The sort of smile which automatically makes you check your trousers to see if your flies are done up. Simply for fun, of course. But Maladict felt he should be able to have fun now. And it made a change freaking out ordinary people rather than eltees.

The waiter paled, instinctively looked down. Thinking it was because of him, Julian fidgeted, annoyed. He was sick of getting this reaction from everyone he met. What the hell was so shocking about an Assassin zombie, anyway? You'd think they'd be the best people for the job, having... well... a sort of intuitive experience with inhumation, if you could call it that.

"Forget it. We'll call if we need anything else."

The waiter scarpered, his sigh of relief audible. Maladict waits until the waiter is out of sight before laughing, reclining back in his seat. He grins at the zombie, unable to help himself. "Well, you sure get along well with people, don't you?"

"I do," replied Julian sourly. "They just don't get along well with me. I suppose he thinks I'll ooze on him or something. Zombies are quite clean, you know. Cleaner than most of the living clientele here," he added with a resentful glare toward the rest of the room.

"Undead, yes, unperson, no!" Phoenix jested with a grin, raising an imaginary drink. She grew serious; "Really, even for a zombie you're barely decaying. And it's not like all zombies - or any, for that matter - are brain eating, slow moving, dummies, is it? You're soul just wanted to stay a bit longer than your body allowed."

"Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't have known you to be a zombie if I wasn't a vampire, didn't work with your kind every day, and if you hadn't been sewing your hand back on when we first met," Mal says, trying to lighten the mood, before glancing over at the waiter. He pauses for a moment, before deciding against telling them that it had most likely been him to cause that. He'd leave it to them to figure out.

"Yeah, it was only the hand-falling-off that alerted me. But I'm guessing you don't really care if people _know_ or not. You care if people _care_ or not… But right now we've got three vampires and someone who looks like a journalist sitting here at the table. It's probably not _you_ that's unnerving anyone; it's the _combination,_" she tried.

"Yeah, that. The combination. Now...Are we getting drinks or not? I do need a coffee now." Maladict says, mumbling slightly on the last few words, before smiling once more at Julian, "Don't worry what people think. They're idiots if they treat you any different, really." He shrugs, considering that matter of fact.

"Well, maybe not _idiots,_ but probably people not worth your time," Phoenix piped in. "You know, I'll go and check on our orders. I'd hate for Maladict to get... _thirsty,_" she added with a wink as she stood to her feet and made her way towards the bar. It was funny how laissez-faire she was about getting her blood sucked out.

"Oh, don't we all love each other. Now we're going to give out hugs and teddy bears," Mysterious said sarcastically. "How did you all get so friendly and protective? You do remember we just met, right? Since when do people become best friends with every thug/assassin/zombie/rhinoceros they just met in a dark alley?"

Then Mysterious began to wonder if she offended anyone. What people would think is so hard to predict sometimes.

"There's no point in getting nasty. We look like the biggest bunch of misfits ever to grace the city – at least since the Watch sorted itself out – so we may as well stick together." Cassandra looked at Julian and mentally added 'or fall apart in a synchronized manner'. "Otherwise we will all have committed "suicide" before the end of tonight."

"Nasty? I'm not getting _nasty;_ I'm just wondering why you are all the sudden like a great big family?" Mysterious decided she should work on her social skills. Of course, she had had to refine those for some of her jobs, but she was out of practice since to be Mysterious you didn't have to be nice.

"Sorry." Cassandra knew she tended to over-react, especially in the presence of cloaked figures. The last mysterious stranger she had met had turned her into a vampire. Her hand went to her neck automatically.

"Coffee!" Phoenix's perky voice chimed. She wore a happy smile as she returned to the table, sat, and passed Maladict the _ahhhh_ smelling drink over the round, wood surface. "And vampire slayers!" she added in the same tone.

Maladict grabs the coffee off the table even before it's finished moving, before raising it to his lips, breathing in the smell with a contented sigh. But then he looks back at the Not-A-Fire-Demon girl (who he still didn't know the name of. Unless he had just forgotten it, that is), and tuts slightly. "I _am_ reformed, you know. I have the badge, if you really want to see it."

"I don't doubt that, Maladict," she replied seriously. "The way you're practically worshiping that cup of coffee shows it well enough. But I mean _literally._ Vampire slayers. In the back. Rather pathetically disguised as cooks."

"Vampire slayers?" Mysterious said, a little too loudly. Shrinking back, she spoke more quietly. "Where? Dressed as cooks you say?"

The Cloaked Figure looked around trying to look casual, but when you wear a Cloak completely submerging you, there is no 'casual'.

"They're in the kitchen. Cooking," Phoenix shrugged. "Or at least attempting to. They're burning everything something terrible. It _hurt _to watch them…" she shuddered.

Maladict takes a sip of his coffee thinking about what she had said. "Ah. Well, I have a horse bow...and a sword. I really hope they don't try anything though. That really would put a damper on the evening..."

"Yes, dampener indeed, but I'm afraid that they probably _are_ going to try something unpleasant. Ever since that Lord Draken from Uberwald - _jerk_ " Phoenix mumbled under her breath before continuing in a normal voice " - started up that whole 'Vampires Bite Back' cult slayers have been slaying practically any vampires they lay eyes on, b-total or _not. _And what is _taking_ that waiter, anyhow?" she added impatiently.

Cassandra knew she was no good in a fight, and while Maladict was a professional soldier (and had survived so it could be safely assumed he was good at it) she doubted the others would be any good either, not in a traditional Morpork brawl. Zombies tended to go to pieces, flames would only raise the issue of fire in-sewer-ants, and cloaks got in the way. It was while she was thinking this that a few cooks entered the room.

Armed with stakes.

oOo

And now for this chapter's cast (in order of appearance):

**Phoenix Shifter,** created and played by **SheWhoShines**

**Julian Halfway, **created and played by **Fanless**

**Mysterious Cloaked Figure**, created and played by **Purple Peanutbutter**

**Cassandra Larimar**, created and played by **E. J. M. Adams**

**Albus Weiss**, created and played by **KeT**

**Maladict**_ (Canan Character_), played by **CriticalAngel**

**Waiter**, played by **CriticalAngel/Fanless**


	2. TEATIME!

_**Last time, on Orderly Chaos…**_

_It was while she was thinking this that a few cooks entered the room._

_Armed with stakes._

…One of them, however, was armed with _steaks_, and one could only assume that there had been some kind of misunderstanding.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Mysterious asked the cooks.

Sensing trouble was afoot, she slid her hand to her hidden weapon and hoped everyone else had battle training – of course she did, she'd been through almost every job there was and at least one of them ought to involve combat.

Cassandra had not ever had battle training, but she did know practical alchemy – or at least alchemy gone wrong. On her person she had several volatile mixtures guaranteed to destroy the building and anyone in it. Or at least prove very, very painful, as she could testify. If aimed correctly she was fairly sure that she could turn the cooks into pieces. But not gold.

Before anyone at the table could make a move, the vampire slayers gurgled and dropped one by one. If Julian had been awake to notice— which he wasn't— he would have remarked that yes, crossbow bolts through the neck tended to do that to one.

Attention was drawn to the doorway, which had been kicked open. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed young man in priest's clothing stood beneath it. He was holding a very, very large and ornate crossbow.

"Who the hells are you?" Cassandra fingered a compound of magnesium nervously. If she smashed its glass vial it would produce a blinding light that could get them all out of this mess. "And where on the disc did you get that crossbow?"

Phoenix jabbed Julian in the shoulder discretely.

"Julian! Wake up!" she hissed. "There's a cute blonde with a crossbow! You need to be alert!" She turned to the priest; "Thanks?" she asked, her face skewing up slightly.

The random people in the inn who had just been there to drink and chat groaned. Why did adventures always have to start in _this_ bar?

Meanwhile, Mysterious walked up and grabbed a stake. She staked one of the steaks.

"Hey!" she said, "Free steaks!"

The people in the inn were kind of disturbed by how nonchalant she was about taking it off a dead body. Mysterious frowned, wondering what the odd looks were for, and abandoned the steak. She went to find out who the man who eliminated the threat was – though she was a little disappointed she didn't get to fight.

The young priest lowered his crossbow. There seemed to be something odd about his eyes, but he blinked and the oddness was gone. " 'Scuse me, ladies and gents," he said in a distinctly unrefined tone. "Only those abominations in the sight of my Lord was about to visit death on yer, and we couldn't 'ave that, could we?"

"Your Lord? And which Lord is that?" Phoenix asked curiously.

"The only Lord there is, miss," he said with a tip of his hat. She dipped her head and smiled in return. Though she still was quite curious, the gesture had bought the newcomer a few more seconds before her ravenous need to know struck.

"Do you like steak?" Mysterious added.

"Sorry— I dun't eat meat."

"I don't either!" Phoenix put in, slightly excitedly. She preferred sugary things as they fueled her flames. Meat just wasn't good for her inner Fire. Mysterious clapped.

"Good for you both!" she said. "I wouldn't either, but I do when there's nothing else – and who could pass on free steak?"

"But really, what do you have against vampire slayers, or were you merely lending a hand?" the not-a-fire-demon added, the ravenous need to know finally catching up with her.

The priest looked rather nonplussed. "Well, they was tryin' ter kill you an' yer mates, right? Anyway, I been followin' them all the way from Sto Kerrig. Bloke in the middle stole me 'oly book, 'e did."

"Well, uh, thank you," Phoenix replied. "Stole your holy book? How terribly dreadful."

She tried to hide the fact she had stolen a very special book herself from one Lord Drakhen, but no one had to know that yet. Unfortunately, she was really bad at not looking suspicious when she wasn't trying to seem innocent.

Mysterious tasted the steak idly before making a disgusted face.

"Ew, too much cumin. I hate cumin," she mumbled, aghast, then threw the steak across the room, oblivious to the fact that it hit someone in the face. "Who likes steak anyway?"

She went to look for a waiter to order a drink from.

Julian woke abruptly. It was a side effect of being smacked in the face with a cumin-spiced steak.

Maladict watched the newcomer with interest, one hand still cupping his mug of coffee almost protectively, and the other relaxing from its about-to-grab-hold-of-sword position beneath the table. Obviously, he didn't have to use it after all. Which wasn't that bad, really. He was off duty.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. She was REALLY good at holding grudges and Maladict's remark about vampire alchemists had wounded her (bloated) pride. "Whoever heard of a vampire that preys on virginal coffee beans? Coffee is hardly the stereotypical drink of the species. Mind you neither is mercury.'

She wandered over to the dead vampire hunters and began going through their pockets (this _is_ Ankh-Morpork). She found something that looked (and irritated her skin) like a holy book, which she hurriedly tossed at the priest. She also pocketed a grand total of 14 dollars. Poverty didn't suit a vampire, she thought, so she should start gaining income wherever possible.

Maladict's eyes napped over to Cassandra, not really caring whether she was intentionally referring to him or not. "I always have found stereotypes to be so ridiculous," he said simply, sipping coffee in an almost soothing way. "And I don't prey on it. But feel glad I haven't started smoking just yet."

"I spend most of my time smoking. But not tobacco," she added darkly.

"I only smoke cigarettes. My first sergeant had chewing tobacco. Put me off for life." He pulled a face at his own words.

"I don't smoke in the conventional manner. Generally I smoke in craters before I pull myself together. Chemicals can be unpredictable, even for a decent alchemist."

Maladict rolled his eyes, but still grinned at that. "Well, that's why you should never choose alchemy then." He glanced down at the dead bodies of the slayers still on the floor, pulling another face at the slight hint of blood. And sipped a little bit more of his coffee, just to be safe.

"It's a bit late for that little gem of wisdom now. I'm an alchemist or a blood drinker. Alchemy is more exciting and the neighbors complain less."

"Oh yes. They definitely complain less. Until you blow yours and their house up, that is," Maladict replied sarcastically.

"Half the time they are in no state to complain. The other half I am unable to listen anyway." Cassandra told the truth automatically, then regretted it.

Maladict paused, looking regretfully into his now empty cup of coffee, before glancing up at her. "I'm...not going to read anything into what you just said," he said carefully. "But do you mean that they won't complain, or that they can't complain?"

"What just happened?" Julian whined, pulling the steak off his head. "And who's— Argh!" He caught sight of the blonde priest, cuddling his book like a loved toy. "_Teatime!_"

The priest looked up. "No, mate, it's gone midnight. 'Ere, you dun look arf ill, you do."

"_Teatime?_" Maladict cried, trying hard to remain cool. And failing, but he wouldn't admit to that. He looked around frantically before his eyes came to rest on the priest. Then he relaxed. "Oh. Right. Keep the steak there, Jules. Might make you look better." He smirked slightly, covering up his previous slip up by being... well, a git. Phoenix frowned at the vampire.

"Personally, I don't much enjoy talking to meat," she replied dryly, "so I'd lose the steak if I were you. On the other hand, it certainly seems like both of you are a bit Teatime-phobic. I must ask, what have you seen of him, or how have you dealt with him, to make you all so on edge?"

She shook her head, slipping a hand to the sewn-tight pocket at the hem of her dress to make sure _**It**_ was still there.

Mysterious came to the table holding an extremely large mug of ale.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, then turned to Julian. "Why are you eating steak without a plate?"

"Perhaps you should introduce yourself, as you do bare a certain similarity to a well known and well feared assassin," Cassandra put in regally the priest's way, ignoring the commotion. At least _he_ didn't have an irrational hatred of vampires, whoever he was. The Omnians that knocked at people's doors had once tried to stab Cassandra with a small, blunt pencil they had happened to have to hand. Which was annoying when all she had said was 'don't bother converting me I don't have to worry about the afterlife.'

_Some people just don't know how to behave in a civilized society_, thought the grave robbing and vaguely antisocial alchemist vampire.

"Do I? Cor." The young priest seemed rather awed by this. "Well, I ain't one, sorry. Peacock's the name, Thomas Peacock. Travelling Reverend in the worship of Deocaster." He bowed, carefully shifting his crossbow to the crook of his arm (where, if it went off, it wouldn't hurt anyone except the ceiling). "Apologies f'r interruptin' yer dinners. Mind if I sit down? I been on me dogs all day, and if they ain't barkin' like the temple of Illatratia(1) I'm Offler." He sat, without waiting for an invitation.

oOo

(1)Goddess of Loud Canines (invented by TMOHzone).

oOo

"Peacock…?" Phoenix mused thoughtfully. "My aunt had rather a fascination with peacocks... sorry; nothing to do with you. Pleasure to meet you, Thomas. I'm Phoenix Shifter. I guess we're both bright birds then, though I suppose my name isn't quite... mine."

"If your own name ain't yours, then what is?" Peacock smiled; brightly, sweetly, but with an undertone of something else deep below the surface. "Phoenix. That's lovely, that is. You from round here, Miss Phoenix Shifter?"

"Why, thank you," she replied, returning his smile just as sweetly and finding herself rather liking it. "I'm glad you like it. My name is Emily, but my mother has the same, and since I can spout fire at will I was nicknamed Phoenix to avoid confusion. It stuck. And no, I'm fresh from Lancre. You?"

"Yeh, I'm local, though I ain't been back to old A.M. for a year. Shades boy, born and bred."

Peacock took a sip of her sweet drink and choked. Phoenix considered complaining about him tasting _her_ Saccharine Mary, but:

**A:** She rather liked him,

**B:** She hadn't actually paid for the drink herself,

and **C:** He'd said her name was pretty.

"I like sugar. What can I say?" the innocent little girl shrugged and smiled innocently.

Cassandra sighed. As an alchemist she could recognize chemistry when she saw it. So then their group would become a human couple with three vampires, a zombie and a mysterious cloaked figure tagging along. _Just brilliant._

Cassandra sunk her head into her hands. Lovelorn people got on her nerves, mainly because she was a self-centered person who had spent 5 years pining after one guy. If she couldn't be happy she didn't see why she should try and be nice to those who still had a chance.

Peacock glanced over at Cassandra. "You all right, miss?" he asked between coughs and wheezes.

"You do look a little sick," Phoenix added. Of course, it could be argued that vampires always looked a little sick, but Miss Shifter had had a lot of experience with vampires and could tell when they really did.

"Fine." Cassandra sounded terse, but also quite a bit better than she would have if her true emotions had shown in her voice. She was highly exasperated. "Tonight I have been kicked out the Guild of Alchemists, almost attacked by vampire slayers, and apparently this inn serves it stakes wooden, but right now, yes I'm fine."

"Wooden, eh? Cor. The standards've gone down even more since I was here last." Peacock leaned across the table to her. "If you need anyone to talk— or just complain to— I'm open."

"Yes, thank you." _I can talk to myself. There are at least 10 different Cassandra's in my head, _she thought miserably. _And they argue constantly. And I'm the one left to try and maintain a pretence of normality. And I'm not very good at it. At all._

At times like these Cassandra took comfort in chemicals.

"Like to go out for a breath of fresh air? You look a mite pale, Miss," Thomas suggested.

"Perhaps we should all leave this inn. Before anyone else shows up who wants to kill one of us." She added, "Please tell me you realize that I and a few others around this table are vampires? I mean the vampire hunters must have been a clue."

Maladict downed the last few drops of his coffee (which, to be frank, doesn't mean much), before getting to his feet, once more not really listening to what's going on around him. "Yes. Leaving might be a good idea," he agreed, flashing a smile in Cassandra's direction, before looking at the bodies. "Excuse me, but I have to do it. Noble tradition of a soldier, an' all that." He bent down next to them and, quite simply, starts looking through their pockets to see if they've anything valuable worth stealing. You never know. There _could_ be.

"I've already done that. Old Morporkian tradition." Cassandra tossed him a few dollars.

Maladict rolls his eyes, one hand snapping up to catch the money, and the other pulling a small, jeweled knife from the pockets of one of the men. "Ooh, fancy. Mine, I think." He gets back to his feet, grinning innocently. Or as innocently as a vampire can.

"Okay," Phoenix stated, "we can go. But if you all can't remember, it's quite a while after midnight. I'm thinking the streets of Ankh Morpork at this hour are a might bit dangerous. Not to mention..." she yawned discretely behind her hand, "...I'm tired."

Phoenix reached inside her satchel, pulled out a knife, and started hacking at the hem of her dress. A few seconds later she pulled out a small, palm sized book from the open seam and went to work re-stitching. It was funny, but the expression on her face was reminiscent of Julian's, when he'd been reattaching his hand.

"Cassandra," Phoenix said, "do you think you could look at this book for me? Or maybe you, Thomas, would have some knowledge that might be useful? Any of you know anything knowledge about wizardry?"

Peacock peered over her shoulder at the book. Julian, who'd been looking for Allie and had no luck, peered over the other one. "What's that?" both said.

Phoenix frowned as she flipped through the pages.

"I'm not exactly sure. Lord Drakhen said that this book was the key to his conquest of Ankh Morpork and the feasting of his kind. I thought I should... er, _relieve_ him of it. Now he wants to suck all my blood out and kill me, but at least I have this darn thing, whatever it is."

Cassandra looked at it. "Well...just there, it's an alchemical formula, do you see? And it looks like some sort of poison, only..." She frowned. "It's not fatal. It's can't be. None of the chemicals would kill a person, unless they had some strange allergy."

"Do you think he intends to drug a bunch of people and then suck their blood out?" Phoenix guessed randomly, her nose wrinkling. "And I thought he was sick _before..._"

"I don't know. Speaking from experience," and here Cassandra shuddered, "we… I mean _vampires_ like _him_ like their prey to fight, because it makes things more… fun."

Very bad and mostly ignored memories were surfacing in her mind. She tried to shut out the screams of terror. Some of them were her own.

"Fun?" Phoenix asked dryly. "Hmm. Well, I'm just glad that I don't have to worry about that happening to me. Er..." she shuddered, "alright, so maybe I do, but at least it hasn't happened yet and I've have my fire," she burst one of her hands into flames to demonstrate, remembered she was holding a book, doused the fire, and thanked whatever god was listening that she hadn't burned it up.

"Anyway, if he tries to kill you now we could all probably do some serious damage. If I see him I will personally break his fangs and watch him struggle with being b-total. I am not seeing Ankh-Morpork become a vampire kingdom. He will remain only a _Lord_."

With a certain amount of embarrassment Cassandra realized she was panting with rage. Mostly she didn't want Ankh-Morpork to be a vampire state because she knew what she would become in that situation.

"Thanks," Phoenix said, her face cracking into a warm smile. "Unfortunately, it's not just him. He's really, really good when it comes to persuading and he's got over a hundred followers. I doubt he'd go anywhere alone."

"I can blow up whole streets. A few mad vampires with nasty habits I really fought to remove are going to present a very _splashy_ problem."

Cassandra carefully neglected to mention that vampires who still drank blood were more powerful than those who had seen the cup of cocoa at the end of the tunnel. Social betterment makes the solitary weak, and no one is more solitary than a vampire when their castle hasn't been burnt down. Yet.

"Well, watch out Drakhen! Cassandra, Halfway, Allie, Peacock, Mysterious, Not-a-Fire-Demon-Girl, and Maladict are _unstoppable!_" she called brightly, raising a fist into the air. It was somewhere between inspirational and hysterical, the bright grin on her face and bold tone of her voice. One couldn't tell if they wanted to cheer or roll on the floor laughing.

Phoenix took a sip of her sweet drink.

"Yum."

Maladict watched them with a faintly amused expression on his face, taking a cigarette out of a previously concealed pouch on the inside of his sleeve and absently lighting it from the flames Phoenix had, for a moment, on her finger tips. He raised it to his lips, still looking amused, "So...Is this an outcry for war on his side, or on yours?"

Not that he was going to say 'ours'. He was only in Ankh-Morpork for a while, before heading back to Borogravia. Unless Vimes asked him to stay, or something. So technically, defending the city of the enemy wasn't Maladict's job. Though he didn't quite like the idea of a vampire city in this country.

"You know, if this city did become taken over by vampires, it would mean another war. Those bastard officers will want to take it back."

Julian didn't look impressed. "Pft. War? In Ankh-Morpork? That'll never happen."

Peacock's smile (at Phoenix and her previous pep) disappeared. "Pray it don't. I seen civil war, sir. It ain't— _civil._"

"You'd be surprised," Maladict replied absently, resting one of his hands on his belt as he looks around.

A whisper at the back of the priest's head, like a yawn, and the essence of Lydia unfurled in his mind. _What's going on? Hmm, new people. Are you going to let me talk to them? _her voice lolled curiously as she turned about in Peacock's conscious.

_I don't think that'd be a good idea._

_Oh, you're no fun. Go on, let me out._

To Peacock's horror, one of his hands twitched. "No!" he yelped, and smacked it down, only to realize he'd spoken out loud.

Maladict watched Peacock with a hint of amusement. "Problem? Or do you yell at your hands all the time?"

"N— urgh," Peacock gurgled as access to his own tongue was abruptly cut off. "Hello!" someone else's voice said through his mouth as his eyes spiraled from blue to brown. "What's _your_ name?"

Cassandra began to wonder if it was possible for her to meet normal people. Maladict just kept smiling, for sake of any other facial expression which might somehow make him looking weird. Weirder than a vampire with a cigarette can look anyway. "Let me guess, someone's sharing his head?" he motions to Peacock's body, "Borrowing him? Two minds? No, doubt that'll makes eyes change colour...Tell you what, I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He says, grinning just a little flirtily. Not that he can ever help himself, of course.

"I'm Lydia," said Lydia through Peacock's mouth. "Also known as Lola. You must be a friend of Tommy's? Nice to meet you. I'd say hello some other way, but I'm sort of dead, so this is my only choice. Sorry."

"Uh...Friend. Yeah, that'll do. And so? Technically, I'm also dead, and I can be seen talking, can't I?" Maladict grinned, finding no problem with smiling at a Lola in a Peacock's body. He guessed he was used to odd things like that by now.

"Vampire, hm? I knew a vampire once. Nice gal. Not scary at all. Well, I haven't got a body anymore. It was burned up in a fire." Lydia sounded a little sad. "You're lucky. I never thought I'd know what it was like not being able to call your body your own."

Maladict nodded, a little amazed that he's still being able to talk seriously. Usually, by now he would have erupted into laughter, which would only be cured by a whack around the head, followed by a coffee. Must be just because he's with new people.

"Fire can do terrible things to bodies caught in it. But you survived? Bet Peacock's pleased with you being in his head, no?" he managed, lips barely curling at the corners. He was very proud.

"Not now he isn't, I don't think." Lydia laughed. She could feel Peacock's consciousness bubbling under her own, trying to unseat it. "He loves me very much, I know, but sometimes I think he'd rather I was on my way. He wasn't going to tell you about me, can you imagine? That'd be awkward if you happened across me sometime and didn't know!"

"You know, I don't think any of us could even be almost called normal," Phoenix said with an amused smile. "It's kind of cool. A pleasure to meet you, Lydia, and I've just met Thomas, but he seems quite lovely. He did save us all from vampire slayers. Of course, we might have been able to handle them, but it's always nice to be saved the trouble."

"Well, I can think of some reasons for keeping your...female side, hidden," Maladict chuckled, "I had to – for ages. Grew quite tiresome, really. Then I got over it. I need another coffee." He glanced around, almost wishing one would appear in front of him. But wishing doesn't really _work_.

"Maladict's gender confused. I'm not quite sure if I know what that means, but I'm not sure if she does either, which is part of the problem," Phoenix explained before turning the vampire's way. "I can grab you another coffee, if you like, but I might be gone for a while. Whenever I'm by a kitchen I have the near unstoppable urge to make cookies.

"Do bring me some, darling!" Lola chirped.

Phoenix smiled.

"Coming right up," she said, and marched towards the kitchen. Thankfully, there were no more "cooks" to be found. There were, however, several _cooks._

"What are you doing back here?" one called with a furrowed brow.

"Just getting some coffee," she replied with her 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile. Suddenly, she spotted the chocolate chips. By golly, was that _almond extract_ she smelled?

A program took over in the back of her mind.

"Y'all know how to make Shifterian Chocolate Chip Cookies, right?"

"What?" they chorused.

"Time you learned."

Back outside the air thickening with an unearthly aroma was tantalizing.

Lola smiled at Maladict, "Oh, you poor thing; do you need someone to talk to about it?"

The vampire choked on air.

"Talk about it? Uh...uh, no, seriously. It's fine. Really."

"Mm, doesn't that smell dandy?" Lydia sniffed the rapidly sweetening air, her attention caught by the smell. "Times like this I miss being really alive."

Phoenix burst from the back room with a huge platter covered in something that, quite literally, smelled intoxicating. They were gooey, but cooked just enough. The chocolate chips were almost melting, but the very centers were still crunchy. There were bits of praline poking out, and the biscuits smelled suspiciously similar to maraschino cherries. One would be so preoccupied with the beauties in her hands that they would almost miss the chef's hat she donned (Phoenix really couldn't resist), or the two mugs of coffee hidden in the huge stack. She placed them on the table, beaming proudly.

"Help yourselves, and here's your coffee," she replied happily, her voice worn out, but thoroughly satisfied as she took one, plopped onto her seat, and dipped it in her sweet drink.

"Oh, keen!" Lydia pounced on the cookies. Julian came back inside, looking rather damp. "Has anyone seen Allie? I can't find him anywhere."

Phoenix's brow furrowed as she glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of the fair-haired vampire.

"I... I don't see him anywhere," she said. "Should we be worried? There WERE several slayers here earlier..."

Maladict, who's attention had been caught by a rather annoying fly buzzing around near the ceiling, suddenly jerked back to...uh, reality. He looked down at the cookies, reaching out to take one as his mind hurried to catch up with what he'd missed. "Hmmm...Nice, actually," he observed, biting into them. "...Uh. Allie. Yes. Who?"

"My friend, the other vampire. Albus. You know, white hair, talking about Teatime?" Julian sighed. He'd expect a vampire to be a little more attentive.

"There was another vampire?" Maladict stated dumbly, blinking again, before shaking his head madly. Wait for it...wait..._There._ The thoughts had finally slotted back into place, and he looked around. "Oh, him. I don't know, perhaps he went to the privy or something. Unless Teatime found him. What's the deal between them, anyway?"

Julian looked shifty. "I don't know if I should say. It's a bit private. We'll find Allie, then he can tell you himself, if he wants."

Maladict gazed at him for a moment, his gaze penetrating, before shrugging. "Fine." he said simply, about to turn away. Julian paused and considered Maladict's suggestion for a second.

"Do vampires use privies, then?" he asked.

The vampire stopped. And smiled._ Dangerously_.

"You know, I think that is the first time anyone's asked any vampire that question."

Julian fidgeted under Maladict's grin, actually flushing a deeper shade of grey(ish). "Ur, sorry," he muttered. "I was just. Er. Sorry. Forget about it."

Phoenix grinned at the shear and utter awkwardness, shaking her head, before going up to the Random Nobody #1 sitting by the door.

"Did a vampire with white hair exit here recently?" she asked politely with her trademark 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile.

"What?" slurred Random Nobody #1, glancing cockeyedly up and hiccupping— not so much the worse for drink as the worse for many drinks. Phoenix pursed her lips in agitation.

"Oh, that's helpful, that is," muttered Julian. Behind him, Lola flew into a choking fit as Peacock began to climb back up into his own consciousness. The Lancre girl whirled around when she heard the frantic coughs.

"Lydia?" She blinked, "_Thomas...?_"

Mysterious turned to the scene going on.

"Are you choking on the cookies?" then something more interesting hit her. "Ooh, cookies!"

She picked up three in one hand then turned her attention back to the others.

"Yes, cookies. Really good cookies."_ These might be better than alchemy. They certainly taste better. If only every vampire could try one of these,_ thought Cassandra. _They wouldn't want blood anymore, though they would probably develop rampant cookie-lust._

Phoenix beamed as her work was praised, warm sparks prickling and crackling on the tips of her fingers. She was glowing (literally) as she and the others left the Random Nobody #1 and the inn behind.

"Pure Shifterian genius, these are," she chimed. "It's taken many generations of my family to get this recipe just right, but I think I've perfected them with the addition of almond extract." Phoenix shook her head sadly. "Some people think of baking cookies as the chore before the treat; it's not, though. Stirring the batter enough so it's mixed thoroughly, but not so much that it gets tough, baking them in the oven for the just enough time for the chips to melt, toasting the praline in the right amount of sugar... It's a work of ART, like painting a picture. You've got to pour your very soul into it."

She coughed when she finished her passionate spew, slightly embarrassed.

"Hm," Mysterious shook her head. "I believe all such things can be described much more simply in one word: _Yum._" To finish it off, she took a bite of her cookie – although that was kind of missed under her Cloak. "Darned Cloak hides everything..." Mysterious grumbled quietly, then she looked around. "Was there something we were talking about or that was going on a moment ago?"

She looked around again.

"Guess not," the Cloaked Figure went and grabbed the last cookie, and pulled it up to her mouth.

Maladict darted forward in a slick blur, snatching the biscuit (the last one!) from Mysterious before it could reach her mouth, then retreating to a safe distance. And grinning.

"Needs must, Mysterious. And I need a cookie." He glanced around once more as he bit into it, one hand absently checking to see if the sword is still attached to his belt. He panicked when he couldn't find it, before somewhat stupidly realizing that it's on the other side.

"So where were we heading again?" Now that the cookies were gone Cassandra wanted to get out of the cold. Besides they were still dangerously close to the inn.

What Cassandra didn't know was that Phoenix had a few extra cookies stashed away. It was always wise to keep a few on hand if she needed to bribe someone. Or just got another sugar craving. Sugar was good for her sweet fire.

"We were looking for Albus, Cass. How we're going to go about doing that, I'm not sure," Phoenix put in, wondering how she was going to eat any cookies at all without the others noticing. She yawned. "And we left the place I was intending to sleep in. Couldn't we save our adventures for the morning?" she added longingly as she started a medium-sized fire in her cupped hands, watching the late chef hat slowly shrivel in its singeing kiss. Cold needed banishing, she felt, and what better way than with her lovely fire? Phoenix sincerely hoped that Julian wouldn't mind.

Julian didn't mind, or at least he hardly notice. He lagged behind the others, not talking to anyone in particular but muttering aloud anyway. He didn't like people at the best of times; now, for better or for worse, he seemed to be stuck with a large group of them. The worst thing was that somehow, he felt obliged to stick around: wandering around the city at night was largely a fairly successful suicide attempt. _Bloody conscience._

Maladict put his hands in the pockets of his slim black jacket, his fingers tapping against the side of his sword in a repetitive rhythm – enough to be annoying for some, and yet calming for others. It was accompanied gently by his soft humming, which even Maladict wasn't quite sure why he was making. But at least he wasn't dancing along the street. Not yet, anyway.

_Must be coming down from a coffee high or something,_ the part of his mind which was always thinking and annoying the rest of his coffee-induced brain thought.

Trailing behind the others none too far from the quietly grumbling Julian, he almost skipped past the alley with the movement in it. But then his mind caught up with his movements, and he stopped, turning to look in it, the smile of a coffee-addicted-vampire on his face.

"Albus? Allieee?" Maladict inquired in a sing-song voice, about to prod into the darkness with his sword, but then thinking better of it. Just.

Phoenix glanced the zombie's way.

"Say something, Julian?" she called curiously as she turned from him and peered into the alley, lighting it up with her flames.

The orange, flickering brightness revealed a figure clothed in a shade of such perfect black that it merged with the night. Who it could be would have been anyone's guess, but Jonathan Teatime's blonde curls were a bit of a giveaway.

oOo

And now for this chapter's cast (in order of appearance):

**Mysterious, **created and played by **Purple Peanutbutter**

**Cassandra Larimar, **created and played by **E. J. M. Adams**

**Julian Halfway, **created and played by **Fanless**

**Thomas Peacock, **created and played by **Fanless**

**Phoenix Shifter, **created and played by **She Who Shines**

**Maladict(a**_)(canon character_)_,_ created by T. Pratchett and played by **CriticalAngel**

**Lydia/Lola Wording, **created and played by **Fanless**

**Random Nobody #1, **created by **She Who Shines **and played by **Fanless**


End file.
